Mahina

by Jack Dey

  *~*~*~*

  Davis was delighted with the goldmine he had stumbled across. Miles of reef, deep enough to be out of the free divers’ reach, yet shallow enough for the suited divers. This meant that the reef had not been visited before and would be untouched.

  He was also expecting a couple of surprises to arrive on Thursday Island aboard today’s steamer. They would ensure no one would question or threaten him again.

  Yesterday, a small lugger had pulled alongside Davis’ boat. Both Jennings and Davis would use the same lugger to resupply depleted necessities on the schooners, as well as transport the shell that had been packed into barrels, to the partnership storehouse on Thursday Island. The small lugger would visit all the vessels on a predetermined day. Davis had bribed the lugger skipper to offload half his catch to another storehouse nearby, after dark.

  Davis congratulated himself at his cunning.

  All was going to plan.

  *~*~*~*

  John was eager for the day to pass. He couldn’t wait to be with Sissy again. The harvest had gone well, but they would have to look for another reef and soon. He had sent word to his father that the shell was nearly finished on their present position. Maybe they should return to Thursday Island early, rather than look for another patch?

  Father had agreed, sensing John’s eagerness to be with his lady again. After all, he was missing Elaine as well and he was tired. He was satisfied with the week’s work. The harvest had been reasonable.

  *~*~*~*

  The steamer was ahead of time; the southeast trade winds had blown determinedly since leaving Brisbane, giving the steamer a tailwind and a much needed push. The trade winds always appeared in winter, but for some reason were late arriving this year.

  Sissy, still sitting in the drawing room, looked up from her planning list. Elaine sat next to her, one leg neatly tucked behind the other, embroidering. Sissy saw the steamer arrive through the drawing room window and panicked.

  “What time is it?!”

  “A little after ten,” Elaine replied, putting aside her embroidery.

  *~*~*~*

  Dalgety dipped his head to walk under the doorjamb. The desk attendant at the Colonial Inn stared up at his six foot nine frame. The man was solid muscle and wore long, white pants and a white, cotton shirt. The left side of his face had a scar running from his eye to his chin. Dark curls set like coils of wire on his huge head. He stood in the doorway, completely blocking it, his head touching the ceiling. He was carrying a square parcel wrapped in plain, brown paper.

  “May I help you?” the attendant asked nervously.

  “I have a room booked next to Mr Davis,” Dalgety replied in a baritone voice.

  “Yes, sir, room 109.”

  *~*~*~*

  The Jennings’ house was full of people, all chattering and hugging each other and soon after, Elaine was introduced to Sissy’s family and friends. Elizabeth had gone into the village, but was to be back in time for the midday arrival of the steamer. As it was nearing midday, she would be home at any moment. The maids had dropped all household duties and gone into the kitchen, to help prepare an informal midday meal for the guests. Sissy showed her parents to their room and gave them a tour of the house.

  Meanwhile, Elizabeth arrived home, stunned to find the house packed with people. Sissy returned with her parents from their tour of the house and took Elizabeth by the hand and excitedly introduced her to her family and friends. An unintended glance through the drawing room window revealed four schooners arrive, drop their sails and anchor at the Jennings’ anchorage.

  “John!” Sissy exclaimed excitedly.

  She ran upstairs and changed into the pretty, blue housedress that John liked, fixed her hair and put on a blue bonnet. “He will be here soon!” she told herself.

  She returned downstairs and mingled with the guests, her eyes constantly and impatiently flicking to the door. Finally, she heard his voice, ran to the door and threw herself into his arms. John laughed as he picked her up and twirled her around and around. He was home and in the eager arms of his bride-to-be.

  *~*~*~*

  The sun had set before Davis finished harvesting, pulled up anchor and set his sails. He had to get the most out of the day and didn’t want to miss an opportunity. Davis’ fleet sailed into the harbour and were at anchor just before eight o’clock, the crew dispersing almost immediately, impatient at Davis’ procrastination.

  Davis walked up to the locked door of his storehouse, unlocked it and peered in. In the half light, he could see a stack of barrels, causing him to smile. Satisfied, he closed the door and locked it again.

  *~*~*~*

  Dalgety was asleep in his room, his feet hanging over the end of the bed and his snoring rattling the window. The sound of a door slamming in the next room woke him. He drowsily sat upright on the edge of the bed and pulled on his shoes. He grabbed up the brown paper package, put the room key in his pocket, ducked under the doorway and closed the door behind him. He knocked on Davis’ door and waited for a response.

  Davis pulled the door open and stared up at Dalgety. His face broke into a smile. “Good to see you, Dalgety. Come inside,” Davis exclaimed as if Dalgety was a long lost relative. “Have you got my package?” he enquired expectantly.

  Dalgety ducked his head, entered Davis’ room and handed him the brown paper package. Davis tore the paper open and whistled as he beheld the sight in front of him. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she, Dalgety?”

  Dalgety just grunted.

  “Of course, I forgot... man of few words,” Davis said sarcastically.

  Davis handled the polished British Army Enfield Mark Two, like he was holding an object of great sacred value. The revolver was the latest in army hand guns and it was eleven inches long, had a twenty five yard range and a six shot round cylinder. He tried it in his belt and it felt good, the cold, grey steel pressed against his belly.

  “You have done well, Dalgety! You and I are going to make a good team,” he smiled.

  *~*~*~*

  Jennings returned to his house and found it full of people. He was feeling tired and just wanted to have some time alone with Elaine. After freshening up, he felt a little more sociable and mingled amiably with the guests. Elaine took hold of his arm and her warm, graceful presence made him feel proud and reminded him why he had married her in the first place. Elaine was unaware of how much she had missed Robert until he entered the house and now, she just couldn’t seem to let him go. She had so much to discuss with her husband, but for now she was content just to be with him.

  *~*~*~*

  CHAPTER 38 - THURSDAY ISLAND 1882

  Although Jennings was tired, he couldn’t sleep when he finally got to bed. It was nice to be in his own home; one that didn’t rock with every wave movement. He was amongst the people he loved and he had missed Elaine’s slender form pressed against him as he slept. She had relayed Davis’ tale about fighting off a crazed jealous admirer of Elizabeth’s, in an entirely different manner. Apparently there was a witness to the event who had told a different account. While Jennings didn’t say much to Elaine at her rendition, the news shocked him and now he was wondering what sort of man he had aligned himself with.

  Elaine’s gentle breathing as she lay next to him was evidence she was sound asleep, her arm draped over his chest, the way she always slept. The previous week had been the longest time away from her in many years. He looked at her tangled blonde locks and smiled. He loved this woman deeply.

  Jennings lay there, wide awake, pondering the anomalies in Davis’ story and wondered how much he could trust him. A thought flashed across his mind and he carefully slipped out from under Elaine’s arm, sliding out of bed. Elaine stirred, rolled over and started her rhythmical breathing again. She was still asleep. Jennings opened the cover on his pocket watch and squinted in the dim light. It was just after one in the morning. He quietly dressed and pulled on his boots. On his way to the front doors, he grabbed up a lantern, push
ed down the lever and the glass cover lifted, exposing the wick. He ran a match against the flint and the match burst into flame, igniting the wick. He let go of the lever and the glass cover closed over the wick, saturating the entry hall into yellow light.

  He made his way quietly out of the house, the lantern cutting a path through the darkness. As he walked briskly, shadows danced as the lantern swung, illuminating the early morning darkness. He wondered what he would find and in a short while, he would know.

  A solitary light aboard a vessel anchored in the harbour, kept him company as he walked down the dirt road along the bay front. The lantern illuminated the storefronts as he walked past, whilst everywhere else was in complete darkness. He approached the locked door on the storehouse. Only the sound of water gently lapping on the bay front in the dark, broke the deafening silence. A dog howled in the distance, adding to his feeling of vulnerability. In the salt air, the lock to the door on the storehouse had become stiff. Jennings put the lantern down on the ground as he tussled with the lock. He twisted the key to the point where he thought it would break and then suddenly, the lock gave way and it clunked open. He grabbed up the lantern, pushed the door open wide enough for him to get through and entered the storehouse.

  Jennings lifted the lantern above his head and stared beyond the glow, into the darkness. Barrels were stacked one upon another, row upon row and four high in some places. His vessel had harvested around eight barrels per day. His other three vessels would have done close to the same. The week’s harvest should be around one hundred and sixty barrels for Jennings’ side of the partnership alone. Jennings wandered through the storehouse and in the light of the lantern, counted three hundred barrels. He did some mental calculations and felt a deep uneasiness. He hoped his suspicions were wrong

  He turned and walked out of the storehouse again. The door screeched as the salt and sand resisted his efforts to close it. He placed the lantern on the ground and hoisted the door with two hands. It finally bumped against the door post. He threaded the padlock through the heavy hasp and staple, and then pushed the lock together with both hands.

  Jennings walked in the light of the lantern, back around the bay side. He glanced through the darkness of the harbour at the light onboard the anchored vessel, thankful for its company. He made his way back into the sleeping household, turned down the wick, extinguishing the flame. He waited for his eyes to accustom themselves to the half light, walked back into his bedroom, undressed and climbed back into bed. Elaine was still fast asleep. He gently cuddled up to her warm body. She stirred, mumbled something and went back to sleep.

  *~*~*~*

  Sissy felt empty when John went back to sea, but there was still an awful lot to do and the week was slipping by quickly. John and the boys had tried on their attire and it fitted perfectly. Sissy was glad of the help from the mums, and her father helped where he could. As the day drew closer, she missed John’s decisiveness and she became stressed as she struggled to make all the decisions.

  Elizabeth and Merinda kidnapped Sissy and took her to see Aunty. A few hours of light-hearted talk and laughter and she felt revitalised, ready to go again.

  She hugged Aunty. “I am so glad you can come to my wedding tomorrow,” Sissy said excitedly.

  “I be there, child, but I have to set out now, to get there in time,” Aunty said, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  Sissy put her arms around Elizabeth and Merinda. “Thank you. I needed some refreshing.”

  *~*~*~*

  Lewis and Russel turned and peered at each other as Davis climbed aboard the schooner. Closely following Davis was a mountainous white man, towering over everybody else. Davis left the bottom buttons of his shirt undone, so all could see the revolver in his belt. He turned to address the crew and looked directly at Lewis and Russel.

  “If you have any ideas about pilfering pearls or attempting to harm me, I suggest you reconsider. This is Dalgety and I can assure you he is totally committed to my welfare. However, if Dalgety decides to turn a blind eye,” Davis patted his belt, “I have a close friend that does not think, just acts. I have a little demonstration for you. Watch carefully.” Davis prompted Dalgety.

  Dalgety picked up a one inch thick steel bar, used to hold the mainsail taut. He grabbed the two ends and bent them together, all his muscles straining through his shirt as he did, then bent it straight again. Mouths were hanging open as the demonstration concluded. Lewis felt the knife in his belt and then thought better of it.

  Davis had outfoxed him… for now.

  *~*~*~*

  The week was shaping up to be another bumper harvest. Davis kept a watchful eye on the crew opening shell as the nets were dragged aboard. He thought he saw Russel’s hand push something into his pocket. Davis spoke to Dalgety and he walked over to Russel. Dalgety picked him up off the ground by his shirt front, turned him upside down and shook him. Several pearls dropped to the deck.

  Lewis grabbed for the knife in his belt, but a shot echoed and he felt a pain rip at his shoulder. The knife dropped to the deck, followed by drops of blood.

  *~*~*~*

  The Jennings’ house looked as if it had been converted into a hotel. The kitchen was full of food and wine and the three cooks worked feverishly, preparing for tomorrow’s festivities, the biggest event the island had seen for some time. The ladies of the house converged on the drawing room, each with a check list, all talking at once. The cool, dry winter weather inclined towards an outdoor wedding. The nights were crystal clear and just a little chill would avail itself later in the evening.

  The construction team had almost finished covering over the courtyard. Seven foot tall, two inch thick, wooden poles lined the periphery of the stone wall. The poles were held upright by rope angled from the top to the ground. The rope was then anchored by a steel peg. A single, ten foot tall, three inch thick, round pole made up the centre support in the middle of the courtyard. It was held upright by support ropes, spider webbing in from the poles on the periphery. A white satin cover was then threaded over the spider webbing, completely covering the courtyard area.

  The internal poles were decorated with pink satin, wrapped from top to bottom and tied off with large, white bows. Each pole had a lantern, attached via a bracket. Each lantern had an orange coloured glass fitted, picking up and emphasising the white and pink, once the sun had gone down. A small dance floor was constructed to one side of the courtyard and chairs placed around it for the musicians.

  The path leading up to the house was overlaid with a red carpet and carefully smoothed out, to take out any bumps or dents. An opening was made in the structure at the entry to the stone wall, allowing people to enter. The entry was decorated with white lace and bordered by pink bows. A white satin handrail, supported by bronze coloured posts, linked together and lined the path all the way from the gate opening up to the house. A gap was left between the wall and the handrail so people could enter to the tables. Large, pink bows were tied to the centre of each section of the handrail.

  A large archway was constructed halfway down the path, for the ceremony. The archway was twisted with white lace and tied off with pink bows. Flowers completely covered the structure. There was enough room to place a hundred chairs in a circle around the archway, for the guests to watch the ceremony. The circle of chairs was parted by the red carpeted walkway. Two white tents were constructed either side of the path, outside the stone wall. These would be used for the men to dress in.

  The bridal table was angled, one end against the stone wall and the other against the house, facing out towards the courtyard. The guest tables were placed neatly around the periphery of the courtyard, facing towards the bridal table. Each table was decorated with a white satin cloth, with pink bows pinned to the front. The red carpeted walkway cut a neat border between the tables, making two distinct sides. The bridal table was covered with pink satin and overlaid with white lace. Red roses made up a chain on the front. White bows were interspersed b
etween each loop in the chain.

  The construction boss proudly called Sissy into the huge tent. Sissy’s eyes were as large as saucers. She giggled and clapped her hands together, and danced as her dream was unfolding before her eyes. It was getting late and the men would return from their week’s work soon. In a matter of hours, Miss Cecilia Long would be Mrs Cecilia Jennings… and Sissy couldn’t wait.

  *~*~*~*

  CHAPTER 39 - THURSDAY ISLAND 1882

  Robert Jennings made a detour on his way home via the storehouse. He unlocked the door, pushed it open and counted two hundred and eighty barrels. His vessels had only harvested one hundred and forty barrels this week, leaving an even one hundred and forty barrels from Davis.

  “Hmmm, the same as last week,” he said to himself.

  After securing the storehouse door, he saw his son stepping out of a long boat nearby, coming ashore from his schooner. He walked over to John.

  “I guess your mind is geared towards a certain young lady and a wedding tomorrow,” he ventured as they walked up towards the house together.

  Father and son Jennings stood open mouthed at the gate, peering into the massive, white tent covering the courtyard. Even from a man’s perspective, it was stunning. The women stood at the door of the house, watching their men’s reaction. Seeing two beaming smiles, Sissy ran up to John and threw herself into his arms.

  “Do you like it?” Sissy asked with a grin.

  Robert answered, “You have been busy. It’s stunning, Sissy.”

  *~*~*~*

  Sissy and John sat together on the chaise lounge. It was Friday 11.45pm, the night before their big day. The rest of the house had eaten, bathed and retired for the night.

  Sissy said to John as they sat watching the lights blinking down on the harbour, “This will be the last day I am ever going to be known as Cecilia Long. From tomorrow, I will be Mrs John Jennings.”